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No. She can’t be...

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“Nonaya.”

She squares her shoulders.

“As in none of your business, you asshole.” She turns, grabs her bag, and slams the car door shut. Then she faces me again.

“Now leave or I’ll call the cops.”

The corner of my mouth lifts despite myself.

“It’s sheriff or deputies out here, ma’am.”

I watch as she marches toward Damiano’s house like she owns the place, and I’m on her in two strides.

“This is private property.”

I stop her with a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugs me off immediately and turns to face me, eyes flashing behind those glasses.

“This is my late husband’s ranch, and he left it to me!”

I look at her again and hold back a curse.

Now that she’s this close, I see it.

Dark hair. Full lips. Olive skin. Barely comes up to my shoulder.

Fuck.

“Eleonora?” My voice comes out rougher than I expect.

Seeing her without him hits me straight in the chest.

Last time I saw her...

Nope. Not going there.

“Don’t call me that, Jude.”

I raise a brow. “You’ve known who I was this whole time?”

“So?”

She looks away, somewhere distant, like she’s stepping into a memory, then back at me.

“You took care of his land even after...?”

“I did.”

She swallows, and for a second, some of the anger leaves her face.

“Well,” she says, her voice going flat again, “this is my property now. I don’t need your help anymore.”

She steps inside and shuts the door behind her.